You’ve got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere…

Well, so much for that whole, “This will be the last time you’ll see these boots, by God!” thing, eh? In fact, I’m seriously considering just changing my tagline to, “Forever wearing those damn Topshop boots, even although we know she has plenty of other shoes,” and be done with it. And of course, I DO have plenty of other shoes, but… it snowed again at the weekend. And, indeed, was snowing when these photos were taken (So that’s NOT a bad case of dandruff, I’m pleased to say, but ickle snowflakes, settling on my head…), so it’s back to the boots. AGAIN. There’s honestly not much I can say about my winter uniform that I haven’t said a million times already now, and there’s also a limit to how much even I can write about my hatred of this awful, endless winter we’re enduring, but unluckily for you, there is NO limit to how much I can write about the ongoing house hunt. And on that subject…

Remember that house I said we were going to see on Friday?

Remember how I said there was very little chance of us actually being able to buy it, so I totally wasn’t going to get attached?

You all knew I was ALREADY attached, didn’t you? Good. Glad we got that out of the way. This is how it’ll probably be from now on, so you may as well just get used to it…

So, we went to see the house on Friday afternoon, accompanied by my parents: my mum is a retired estate agent, so she Knows About These Things, and my dad has the uncanny knack of being able to look at a house and instantly commit every one of its faults to memory, so we figured we could do with the help, especially considering that I, well, kind of lose my mind a bit with this kind of thing.

When we pulled into the driveway, you see, there was a family of Others on their way out, having obviously just completed the house tour. “OMG!” I said, outraged. “There are OTHERS in my house! How DARE they!” And my family all heaved heavy sighs and looked at each other in despair…

The family rejected my plan to charge up to The Others, shouting “Ger orfa mah land, varmints!”, so I was forced to content myself with simply giving them A Look, with which I hoped to convey the sentiment, “We will meet again on the field of the battle, Others: and next time I shall not be so merciful!” (I’m not sure how well that went over, to be honest. The Others didn’t look phased in the slightest, so I think I probably just looked like I had a bad case of gas or something…) And all this before we’d even set foot in the place.

Once we DID get inside… well, I guess everyone has their own way of handling these kind of situations. My family, for instance, all decided to handle it like the grown adults they are. I, on the other hand, decided to handle it like Rubin probably would, if he was human, and buying a house. So while they all walked around wearing serious expressions, asking the right questions and Not Giving Anything Away, I basically bounded in with my tongue hanging out, and proceeded to run around peeing on everything* and shouting things like, “OMG, STAIRS! Those would be SO HANDY for getting to the top floor!” and “WOW, A WASHING MACHINE! We could use it to clean our clothes! Terry, did you see this: FREE WASHING MACHINE!”

I knew I had messed-up on the “not getting attached” thing when, in the hours following the viewing, each member of my family took it in turns to take me aside and say things like, “Look, Amber, you’re going to have to try not to do that thing you do. You know, with the getting-attached?” Then, on Saturday night, they staged an intervention. My dad was Bad Cop. My mum was Good Cop. Terry was Strong, Silent Cop Who Doesn’t Say Much But His Silence Speaks Volumes. Rubin was Rookie Cop, who gets totally over-excited and ends up shooting someone. I’m pretty sure he was on my side, until Bad Cop bribed him with a DentaStix and my only ally deserted me. I THINK the family were making some very valid points during this intervention, but honestly, it’s hard to say, because the whole time they were talking, I was thinking about what colour to paint my new shoe room…

So that’s where we’re at, basically: we’re unlikely to buy that house, but if we did, I would probably just go with white for the shoe room, so the shoes could stand out against it, like they do now. Not that I’ve been thinking about it AT ALL, obviously. Ahem.

The house search continues, then, and in the meantime, we’re working as hard as we can to get our own house ready to sell. We have a long road ahead of us, people. It’ll be quite a bit longer for me than it will be for Terry, though, because while he’s grimly forging ahead through the forest of Let’s Have the Ceilings Skimmed, I’m taking the scenic route, with frequent detours to Dulux Colour Chart Town and The Valley of the Kitchen Appliances. Fun times, guys, fun times…

* Note to people who always take me literally: I didn’t ACTUALLY pee on everything. Just a couple of things. Hardly anything, really…

P.S. I’m still pimping Bloglovin’, for those of you who used to follow me on Google Reader: you can find me here.

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Hi, I'm Amber, and this blog is the story of my life. Click the image to find out more...

I tend to do a similar thing, with the Getting Attached. Not so much with houses, just with about everything else, ever. Shoes, clothes, cars. I start out with good intentions or, worse still..a Budget. Ugh. Then I see something practical, which is too boring for me. Then I’ll no doubt see something omgtotallyamazingomg and have to have it, there and then.
I don’t think there’s any cure. It’s like an illness. Or a way of life, or something.

It seemed like every house we looked at was THE house! Luckily, we didn’t have too many to go through, I don’t think I could have handled it otherwise. Happy house hunting!
Purple just so happens to be another one of your colors, this dress looks great on you.

I went to view a house that I’d grown up in (I was just being nosey, we had no plans to buy it) and had to pretend I didn’t know where everything was…the owners would say “and here is the built in cupboard in this 2nd bedroom” and I had to stop myself from going “I KNEH….this is my old room….and OMG there’s my paint splatters from the 70s on the shelf!”

My mother has magic “reality” powers. We were renting and I fell desperately, passionately in love with a house around the corner that cost about double what we could afford. My mother walked by it with me and pointed 8 things I would hate (this is from the outside of the house) and I fell instantly out of love.

That said, when we starting looking in earnest we did buy the first house we looked at.

Our house is on the market now, and it’s such a horrible experience. I hate my stuff being in storage and strangers looking around the house. Sometimes it feels like we’ll never sell it and I really want to get onto the fun bit of new house shopping.

This is the part I’m dreading most… I absolutely HATE the thought of people poking around my house, looking at all my stuff etc. I’m definitely planning to make myself scarce and just leave it to the agent to take them round: I just don’t think I can listen to all of the comments I’m sure to get about my shoe wall!

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